Tea
 
 
With the knife-clang still
ringing from the floor,
set the table.
 
A few strands trickle       
away—good.  Some sugar
scatters: better.
                 
Leave the spoon
you dropped in your hurry
to polish.  Only
                                   
a newcomer 
can pick it up now.
Steep a little to spill 
                                   
on whoever arrives.  Wait,
your face watching from
the deep well of the cup.

 

Mark Cunningham